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<title>"I love you, Hargreeves." by theoddling</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25261795">"I love you, Hargreeves."</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoddling/pseuds/theoddling'>theoddling</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Umbrella Academy (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dave &amp; Klaus Hargreeves During Vietnam, M/M, Vietnam War, reference to anti-gay violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:53:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>716</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25261795</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoddling/pseuds/theoddling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A reflection on a relationship forged in war, from the perspective of the soldier that never made it home. AKA Dave has a quiet night thinking about Klaus</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dave/Klaus Hargreeves</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>74</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>"I love you, Hargreeves."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <i>He flicked the lighter open for the third, or maybe fourth time, the little slip of paper wavering in his other hand, corner nearly touching the unlit mouth of it. He could burn it before his father got home. No one ever had to know he received the dreaded card. His mother’s tears were just more of her fearful hysterics that she might one day lose her “baby boy,” nothing happened.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>But that wouldn’t be right. He was raised to be honest, to be good. The government had called on him to serve in their war. Burning the piece of paper wouldn’t change that. It wouldn’t be an act of rebellion; it would be a lie of cowardice. He had enough of those, he didn’t need another. No, he would do as he was told.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>He set the draft card down. His lighter flickered on once more, this time lighting a cigarette. He sighed as he took a deep drag and leaned against the step of his parents’ porch.</i>
</p>
<p>Dave looked down at the man sleeping beside him, twitching and whimpering softly every once in a while. He didn’t know what Klaus’s nightmares were, only that they came from something before the war, something that made all the death around them pale in comparison. He felt his heart break just a little bit, tears kissing the corner of his eyes at the overwhelming depth of his feelings for the strange, wonderful person laying there.</p>
<p>When he had gotten that draft card, he thought his life was over. He thought that nothing good could come of the conscription. He had never been happier to be wrong.</p>
<p>Klaus had dropped into Dave’s life, almost literally, showing up in the middle of the night: wounded, terrified, and wrapped in a towel. There hadn’t been time to ask a lot of questions because of the attack right after, but even if there had been, Klaus wouldn’t have had any answers, not ones that made sense anyway. Most people wrote him off as having some sort of mental deficiency, or being so traumatized by whatever he went through (assuming he was an escaped POW based on the look of him) that he was covering it up with some science-fiction bullshit. </p>
<p>Dave found that he didn’t care either way, because Klaus was friendly, and funny, and vibrant.</p>
<p>The first time they kissed, he had been scared, not only that Klaus might reproach him, but of what might happen if anyone found out. He would probably be discharged, his family might never speak to him again, and those were the least violent possibilities. But something in the way those green eyes gazed at him from down the bar dared him to take a chance. So, for once, he did.</p>
<p>Dave swore the skies opened and angels sang. And then, pressed against the dark corner by the man, surprisingly strong for how skinny (unhealthily so) he was, there was nothing angelic about Dave’s thoughts.</p>
<p>Shaking himself out of the memories, he danced his fingers soothingly down Klaus’s arm, humming softly as he tucked back down beside and around him in the little motel bed. His touch seemed to quiet the nightmares, as Klaus settled, now relaxed and still.  </p>
<p>“I love you Hargreeves,” Dave murmured, brushing his lips across Klaus’s forehead, knowing the other man would not hear the confession tonight. “Body and mind and soul, I love you and I’m yours.”</p>
<p>Still asleep, Klaus snuggled closer, burying his face in the hollow of Dave’s throat with a gentle whine. His arms curled around his waist, dragging himself as close as possible, clinging, and Dave let him.</p>
<p>Dave felt his chest swell with a different kind of desire than the one he was used to. He wanted nothing more than to stay here with him, keep him folded safely in his arms and fight off the world that had hurt him so.</p>
<p>He didn’t understand how someone could have hurt a soul like Klaus, who was so trusting and good and willing to give his entire self with no hope of reciprocity, but he hated the person or people who had. But it would never happen again. He would make personally sure that Klaus would never hurt, not while there was air in Dave’s lungs.</p>
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